An Imperfect Mirror
by Miss Krahka
Summary: Krahka and Lariska take night watch duty. Krahka/Lariska


It was Lariska's turn to take watch as the others slept. Karzahni was an inhospitable place on the best of days, but with Makuta in chage of the entire universe they lived in, almost everywhere was a deathtrap. Karzahni was no worse than anywhere else these days. But fighting while tired was a death sentence, and Krahka had buried out a place that was safe and hidden, at least for the moment, but none of them wanted to take chances.

Lariska heard a familiar clunk of feet. No footsteps were more familiar. After all, they were her own. She looked back to see herself. It no longer surprised her. Krahka.

Looking at Krahka was like being next to a mirror, but an imperfect one. While Lariska moved with her own grace, Krahka always moved hunched over, like she wasn't used to having only two legs. She had taken on Lariska's form most of the time since they had met, except for when it was absolutely necessary, and she wasn't entirely sure why. If Lariska had the power of shapeshifting the way Krahka did, she'd never take the same form twice.

"Heel first, and walk slowly if you want to sneak up on me," Lariska said.

"I know how to move quietly," Krahka protested.

"Not in my body. I know how to move in my own body. I only have one; I have to get used to it."

Krahka sat down on a beam without being invited. "Couldn't sleep," she said. "You might need help when they come. I didn't want to leave you out here alone."

Lariska smiled grimly. "How sweet of you. Taking double watch for me."

They sat in silence for a while. There was so much about Krahka that Lariska didn't know, and Krahka was not very forthcoming. But everything about her was intriguing. She had heard of the Krahka before, but she had never seen one in person. Not that there wasn't the possibility that she had known one without knowing it, anyone could be a Krahka and she'd never know.

But this one made no attempt to hide her nature. When they had first met, Krahka would take a different form every few minutes, but the more time they spent together, the more Krahka would stay as Lariska. No one commented on it. It was strange, but Lariska didn't complain, since they moved and acted so different that everyone could tell the difference. As long as she could hold her own in a fight. And in a way, it was sort of flattering.

Lariska prefered the silence, but this one grated on her. Here she was with a Krahka who looked like her own twin and they were saying nothing to each other. There was so much that she didn't know and every second that passed was a moment that she could learn about her.

So she attempted a question. "Krahka?" she said, quietly so as to not alert anything nasty to their presence.

"Hm?" she replied.

"That's the name of a species. Do you have a name besides that?"

The parts of Krahka's face moved rigidly, as if she had to consciously put each part in its place to make a recognizable facial expression. "There is no one else who is also Krahka. I am the last."

"But before that, you must've had a name, right?"

Another long pause. "Names are for Matoran."

Lariska chuckled a bit. "Among other species. Matoran are just the ones who place the most importance on such things."

"Non-Rahi then. But Matoran are just the loudest. At least you know how to move quietly … Speaking of which …"

She crouched down and sniffed the air, her snout looking more animalistic for a moment before going back. She produced a pair of daggers from her hands and jumped out of the barrow. Lariska followed along, trusting Krahka's instincts.

Outside were a band of mutated Matoran, all with the now familiar rust of infection on their strange masks. Lariska took out her own daggers, which were not attached to her hands like Krahka's imitations, and didn't hesitate to start chopping.

The pair worked side by side, with Krahka mirroring her every move, sometimes changing her head to something with jaws or her hands to something with claws before reverting back to Lariska's form again. As they hacked away at her with their improvised weapons, she would let them think that they hit her, then come in for a bite to tear them apart.

Lariska actually used her daggers. She was a skilled killer, and wasn't the best of the Dark Hunters for nothing. These infected Matoran were a distraction, a bit of fun on an otherwise dreary night. She felt no remorse for killing them. She knew the Toa would probably object in the morning, but she didn't get where she was by focusing on what others might think in the future.

After a small battle, the infected Matoran lay scattered at their feet, and Krahka and Lariska looked each other in the eye, panting a little from the exertion. Krahka kicked a little at the parts.  
"Thanks," Lariska said. She did not thank anyone lightly. "But I noticed one thing when we were fighting."

"Oh? What's that?"

"When we were fighting, you changed a little, but you always kept my form. Why didn't you just turn into a Tahtorak and stomp them all out? Why my form?"

If Lariska didn't know better, she'd think Krahka was blushing. "It's … it's because your form is the most beautiful I've seen. I couldn't think of anything better."

"So … it's your way of complimenting me?"

"Of saying that I think you're beautiful. Out of all the things, you're the most beautiful."

Now it was Lariska's turn to be taken aback. She had found Krahka intriguing, but hadn't expected her to have any feelings for her. She hadn't expected to have feelings back, but here they were.

"You can be anything and I'd still admire you. You don't have to be me to be beautiful," she said. "You just have to be you." She laughed after saying this. "Now you're making me all mushy. Want to go killing something?"

"It would be my pleasure!" Krahka said with a grin. She went on all fours and changed into an Ash Bear and they began the hunt.


End file.
